'Biff!’ the elderly woman’s voice called from inside the Tannen house. ‘Where are you going, Biff?’
Biff started to walk quickly away from the house.
‘To get my car. Grandma!’ he called over his shoulder.
‘But when are you coming back, precious?' his grandma whined. ‘My feet hurt, and I want you to rub my toes some more. And put polish on them!'
Biff waved violently back at the house.
Marty called back to Doc on the walkie-talkie,‘Never mind, Doc. Biff lives here all right.'
Marty signed off.
Biff walked rapidly toward the street.
There was a bunch of kids playing catch in the yard next door; a yard that still had a lawn. One of the kids overthrew the ball they were tossing around. It bounced into Biff’s yard, rolling to his feet in the dirt and weeds.
Biff picked up the ball and kept on walking. All five kids ran over to teenager and looked up expectantly.
‘This your ball?’ Biff asked with a grin.
The kids all nodded eagerly.
Biff looked from one kid to the next, all around the circle, then tossed the ball onto the roof of the house next door.
‘Well, go get it!’ Biff guffawed loudly as the kid’s faces fell, and walked out onto the street.
So Biff had gone for his car. This was it then. Marty decided he’d better call Doc and report.
He looked out over the wide open spaces. It was a simpler time, before cars and heavy industry. A time when you could breathe, and pit yourself against the elements. A time that was just right for Doc Brown, the fastest gun in the West!
He turned to look at the homestead behind him, then took a moment to pat his trusty horse.
‘Yo, Doc! ’ his horse said. ‘Come in, Doc!’
Wait a moment. Why was his horse talking? Even worse, why was his horse talking with the voice of Marty McFly?
Doc opened his eyes.
‘Come in, Doc!’ Marty’s voice crackled on the walkie-talkie.‘Are you there?’
Doc sat up quickly, and reached for the radio’s talk button. He must have dozed off there for a minute.
‘Check, Marty,’ he replied, stifling a yawn. ‘I’m here, ever vigilant.’
‘Biff just left his house,’ Marty reported. Tm tailing him. No sign of Old Biff yet.’
Doc stretched a little, trying to get a couple of kinks out of his back. A DeLorean wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep in the world. He spoke into the walkie-talkie again.
‘Roger. 10-4 Marty. Keep me posted on all consequential developments. Signing off.’
He yawned and tossed the walkie-talkie over on the passenger seat, then let his head fall back again against the head rest. These DeLoreans did have comfortable headrests. He would close his eyes for just another minute or two. This time travel could really tire a scientist out!
Biff had walked all the way into Courthouse Square -the real Courthouse Square, the way Marty remembered it from 1955. And Marty had followed him all the way, trying to keep enough distance between them while not losing Biff around a turn or down a side street. So far, he didn’t think Biff had looked back once.
A tow truck was just pulling up in front of Western Auto, Biff’s 1940 Ford Convertible hanging off the back. The car looked almost as good as it had in front of the Biff Tannen Museum - certainly a lot better than when it had hit the manure truck!
A guy in mechanic's overalls got out of the cab of the truck and walked around to disconnect Biffs car from the tow. The circular name patch over his pocket said his name was Terry.